A Wakeup Call

Stumbling aimlessly down a dismal, unlit road,
Unconsciously steering myself towards pristine beginnings.
A world anew, sky white as the driven snow, but in a split fraction of a moment,
I exist in a verdant maze—a writhing body of endless green.
 
A heavy iron gate solidly clangs shut, a bleak barricade behind me
A daunting expanse of greenery looms, towering forebodingly before me.
My right palm trembles against the foliage, quivering severely in the muted wind,
And the white silence is deafening, somehow…
 
Corners, corners, endless corners—waiting just beyond my every step,
But one last careless stumble brings me out through the exit.
A doorway which only leads to war and bloodshed, spontaneous
Fights emerge in rapid succession, borne from the earth, as scarlet tarnishes the once-tranquil meadow.
 
I am a spectator—a light gust passing through a busy corridor.
A clear channel is my pathway, with no danger perturbing my invincible shell.
Voiceless cries echo before my half-lidded eyes, partnered with astral blood splattering the air.
Somewhere among the chaos, however, stormy gray eyes beckon to me from afar.
 
A familiar hand reaches out, awaiting me like a beacon in the dreary night.
I accept, suddenly encased by warmth, my universe vanishing into thin air.
Unbelievable bliss washes over me, feather-light, flitting sparks on my skin,
But, all good things must come to an end…
 
An enigmatic fog drapes over the fading landscape, obscuring view.
A touch like the summer breeze dances over my face, my heart beating at an impossible pace.
I graciously receive a soft farewell and a sad, wistful smile as the world begins to dissipate
But, in reality, I jolt up from the mattress, mind reeling, and topple very ungraciously to my bedroom floor. 
 
This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741